The Dragons Bane

Bright and early the next morning, as promised, the caravan left on its return journey south. Few of the revelers of the previous night outside of a few sleepy castle guards were awake to see them off. The guards on watch at this early hour open the great gates slowly, yawning as they wish the people in the caravan a safe and speedy journey. The wagons are carrying a light load, since there is no produce for the return trip at this time of year. This should allow the caravan to make good time on the return trip to Three Forks. The guards assigned to escort the caravan from the valley are glad the wagons are able to travel so quickly, with any luck they will be back before supper.

The rest of the town awakens later, many still recovering from the previous night’s revelry, most with a story to tell those who will listen. Coming down to breakfast, we four, now-legitimate adventurers, each have a story of our own to tell.

“Did you see the fireballs? I have never seen the likes of them, I didn’t even know you could do that with a fireball spell!” exclaims Mintock.

“Yes, it was extremely impressive, I’ll grant you that,” agrees Clernon. “But it’s a wonder that the castle isn’t attacked more often, that display could probably be seen from anywhere in the valley. I know it was heard from here to the mountains and back throughout the valley by the echoes.”

“Yes, indeed. Our fireworks can even be seen and heard from outside the valley, or so we have been told,” says Timora, coming to take their orders, bearing two pitchers and a tray of mugs.

“Doesn’t that attract any monsters?” asks Clernon.

Timora places the tray of mugs and the two pitchers down. “No, it helps to keep them away. For what monster in his right mind would come and tangle with someone that could do what you saw them do last night?”

Reflecting back on the splendor of the fireworks, Clernon views them with a new light, smiling, “and they were pretty, too!”

Nodding her agreement, Timora picks up one of the mugs and pours a cup of coffee before rounding the table and approaching Nordok first. “And what can I get you this morning,” she asks, and, handing him the mug, she looks directly into his eyes.

Returning her gaze as he unconsciously accepts the mug, he finds himself quietly stuttering in his reply. “Th.. thank you, I.. I think I.. I want the eggs and sausage.” Fortunately, the others are all too preoccupied to notice, as they reach for their mugs and Freedar’s cure-all. Nor do they notice her as she remains standing there, mutely watching Nordok.

“And how did you two make out at the knife-throwing competition?” inquires Mizdar.

“Nordok got bounced out early on, seems he needs to practice with that new knife of his,” teases Seldor, rousing Nordok back to reality.

Unaware of the jibe of his best friend, he complements him on his performance. “Well, at least you made it to the finals. As long as one of us made a fair showing, I’m happy. Would you ever have guessed that Killian was that good? He came in second. I almost couldn’t believe it. Our knife vender was hard pressed to win, I’ll tell you. Everyone said it was the closest match in many a year.”

“Congratulations, Seldor, on making it to the finals.”

“Yes, indeed, very impressive,” echoes Mintock.

“I was quite happy to see that the entire clergy turned out, I didn’t realize there were that many. And the Lady Sheela had a positively saintly glow about her that I remember one of my instructors back at seminary school describing as belonging only to the most powerful of our order.”

Just then, the other four members of The Dragons Bane enter the tavern and join us for breakfast.

“Well met, and good timing. We were just about to order,” says Seldor, motioning to Timora, breaking her trance. “Meat pies, all around, if that is ok with everyone?” The others reply with assorted nods and affirmatives.

“You must pardon our short statured friends, they imbibed a little too much wine last night, if this morning’s added grumpiness is any indication. I’m sure they will be in better spirits soon,” explains Mizdar.

Timora returns with three pitchers of coffee and another pitcher of her father’s cure-all, still a little flustered. She quickly leaves, returning to the kitchen. Flustered for a moment, she leans against the inside of the door.

Freedar, noticing something different about her but not knowing what, asks her to help him. “Make up that egg order while I get these pies out of the oven for our guests.”

As Timora makes Nordok’s breakfast, she seems to come to a conclusion, causing her to smile as she continues making Him breakfast. She doesn’t realize it, but she is showing a zeal and gleefulness that Freedar doesn’t recall seeing in her before. He continues to observe his daughter quietly while he prepares the other seven breakfasts, maintaining his own consul on the matter, deciding to not even share his suspicions with his wife, at least not yet.

Wheeling the cart laden with breakfast dishes, Timora quickly circles the table as she places their meals on the table. Lastly, she parks the cart by Nordok. “I made these special, just for you, Nordok,” she says, placing the plate with the eggs and sausage in front of him. She then pours his cup for him, gracing him with a smile before leaving.

“Seems you have an admirer,” teases Seldor.

“At least we now know who the handsome one in the party is,” replies Nordok.

Having other concerns at the moment, the dwarves immediately reach for the pitcher of hangover medicine. The rest of us, well aware that dwarves are usually short-tempered, refrain from commenting on their current state. Instead, Mintock steers the conversation towards the coming inspection of the gear. “We will have all of our gear laid out by the midday meal, ready for your inspection after we eat.”

“Good. That will save time. Most of us have practice later this afternoon,” responds Mizdar, meaning staff practice for the mages and clerics. “By supper we should have a pretty good account of what we will need as a party for our journey to and from the dungeons, as well as what we will need while in the dungeons.”

“Fortunately, we all come from families that are moderately well off, so we can help pay for whatever is needed, within reason, of course,” offers Clernon.

“Well, in that case, you four can cover the cost of any personal gear you may be lacking. But as far as the party gear requirements go, we still have plenty of treasure left over from last season to cover those expenses.”

“Speaking of last season, we noticed that you had only made two trips to the dungeons. Do you mind if I ask why?” inquires Mintock.

“Well, the dungeon takes two weeks of travel each way. So, right there two months were used up, and there was the month of training for each of us to advance in our abilities. So, add the week actually spent in the dungeons each time, and we have three and a half months, with us sitting back here ready to train for an additional month. So you see, almost five months went by, and before we could make it out again, the winter weather closed in. So we spent the winter here,” explains Mizdar.

“Aye, that an’ we didna’ have enough people to make a whole party, wit none comin’ in on the winter caravans. We had ta wait fer some such as yerselves ta come an’ sign on wit us afore we could go out again,” adds Dimlar.

“Yes, well, as my short companion so aptly stated, we found ourselves stuck here for the winter,” reiterates Mizdar. “But now we are up to force, and the weather is about to break, so it’s back to the dungeons and more treasure for us.”

“Aye, an’ aboot time!” adds Delgar, with a nod of agreement from Dimlar.

The midday meal seems to come quickly on this day. The four newest members’ anxiety over the coming inspection has made the morning slip by in the blink of an eye. Timora, for whatever reason, is set scrubbing pans by the wary Freedar, who decides to take the adventurers orders himself on the pretext of inquiring on their departure but basically just wanting to chat.

We are just finishing our meal when Seldor asks a question that all of us new members have been wondering about since reading the charter. “I was wondering about something that the charter said.”

“’Tis too late to back out now,” rumbles Dimlar anxiously.

“No, no, it’s not anything like that. I was wondering what was meant about the costs of training. We have been using the equipment and services of each of our guilds since we came here, but no one has asked us to pay anything, yet. Are they going to come up to us as we leave and tell us we owe them a substantial amount of money or something?”

“Nay,” answers the dwarf with obvious relief.

“They will only charge you when it’s time for you to go up to the next level of ability. That is when they really put you to work and when you really cause them to expend a significant amount of effort instructing you. The rest of the time you may use their equipment and services for free,” explains Mizdar.

“Besides, at 200 gold pieces to go from first to second level, and 500 to go from second to third, they reap in a tidy sum when it comes time for you to go up in levels,” adds Mizdar.

“I guess so,” says Nordok. “Just out of curiosity, what is the cost after that?”

“We don’t know, none of us have made it beyond third. But you can bet it will be substantial,” promises Mizdar.

“Time is awasting, gentlemen. Let us proceed with our inventory of the gear,” interrupts Clandistra in a sweet, velvety voice that sounds almost musical.

“Aye, ’tis time,” agrees Delgar. With that said, the eight of us proceed upstairs.

Seldor and Nordok’s gear is the first to be gone through. Each fighter has the exact same gear. A small tent, four blankets, and two extra sets of underclothes, and one small metal mirror. Five candles, one flint and steel set, one lantern, and two dozen flasks of oil. 40 waterskins, eight weeks of standard iron rations, and a personal cooking kit. 40 large sacks, 10 small sacks, 10 iron spikes, four 50’ lengths of rope, and one large backpack.

Clernon’s gear is the same, plus he has several sacks of spell ingredients as well as herbs and spices for cooking. Also, he has enough bandages to wrap the entire party from head to toe, many times over, along with a few vials containing salves.

Next, we move on to Mintock’s room. He basically has the same gear as the fighters, but he has 20 candles instead of four. This is expected, since he must have light to study his spells. He also has several small pouches of magical ingredients.

“Well, they seem to have the bare minimum, anyway. However, I think that you should divide the bandages up amongst yourselves. Also, two ropes each should be more than sufficient. And get yourselves about three dozen glass flasks of oil, and as many torches as you can carry. We throw them at monsters and then light them up with the torches. Otherwise, your gear is acceptable,” states Mizdar.

“Now, how about horses?”

“We each have a riding horse, complete with gear. But that is it,” answers Seldor.

“Well, that is more than we expected. Most come in on the caravan, not with the caravan, if you get my meaning,” says Mizdar.

“Fortunately, we have some extra mounts, and we have a small wagon that we use to transport our gear up to the dungeons. We also have a couple of pack mules that we bring in the dungeons. We leave our mounts, the extra gear, and provisions for the return trip outside the dungeons in a concealed structure among the ruins. So far, we have been lucky. Nothing has bothered them, at least nothing that we know of. So, you four have tomorrow and the next day to get the things we mentioned. We will start loading after supper tomorrow and leave with the coming of the sun on the following morning. The road crew will be leaving at the same time, so we will have company for the first two or three days. Any questions?” No one seems to have any.

“Good, because it is time for afternoon staff practice for some of us. And I’m sure the rest have practice as well.”

The eight of us proceed to the fighter’s training yard for our respective weapons practice.

Later, after another of the Blood Moon’s great dinners, we find ourselves discussing what we will need for the upcoming trip to the dungeons. “You say you have a small wagon that will carry our supplies to the dungeons?” asks Seldor.

“We have a small wagon, we are a team, now. And yes, but it isn’t very big. We chose its small size because one horse can easily pull it, it can get through the narrower trails, and it doesn’t get stuck too often,” replies Mizdar.

“Aye, an’ we can be gettin’ it unstuck easy, too!” adds Delgar.

“What gear shall we place in the wagon, then?” asks Nordok.

“We generally divide everything in half, we put the rations for the return trip in the wagon, as well as the party cooking gear.”

“What, then, do we do with the other half?” queries Seldor.

“It gets divided up among the pack mules. We do this for the obvious reason that if something happens we will only lose part of our gear. We have two pack mules, but we will want a third, at least. Tomorrow, I’ll make arrangements to purchase at least one more mule. I may get a fourth mule, just to carry the bulk of our flammables, like the oil. That way, if we have a fire, we won’t lose too much gear. Once we are on the road, we are on our own. And while we really can’t afford a mishap, it is best to plan for one.”

“Aye, better safe than sorry,” adds Dimlar.

“How are the four of us fighters going to guard our mini caravan? Do we take turns one at a time standing watch at night? And what about when we are travelling?” asks Seldor.

“Well, in the first place, there are eight of us, and we all share the watches when not travelling. We mages take the easiest watch since we are the weakest fighters, which is the first watch when the rest of us are still generally awake. The second watch is the most dangerous, that watch will be shared by either Dimlar or Delgar, teamed up with either Seldor or Nordok. The third watch is the next most dangerous, it will be shared by whichever dwarf hasn’t stood a watch teamed with Clandistra. The last watch will be shared by Clernon and either Seldor or Nordok.”

“Good, this way I’ll be wide awake and able to start breakfast for us,” puts in Clernon.

“Clernon fancies himself a cook, and since he isn’t half bad, we figured to let him do the cooking,” explains Mintock.

“Ah, bout time we had us a decent cook,” comments Dimlar.

“Just remember, I’ll do the cooking, but I don’t do the dishes!” jokes Clernon, eliciting a few laughs around the table.

“Fair enough, I guess we can take turns with the dishes,” offers Mizdar.

“Now, when we are traveling, the possibility of attack is just as real as at any other time. Therefore, we spread out, single file. One of the dwarves leads the way, the other brings up the rear. Nordok and Seldor, you two will support the center, where the wagon, the extra mounts, and one pack mule will be. Clandistra will take second position up front. Clernon, you will take second from the back. I’ll take third up front and Mintock will have third from the back. If we have only three mules, then neither the dwarves nor Clandistra will be leading any of them. The rest of us will each hold the reins of one mule, with one of the extra mounts tied to it. And one of you two,” motioning to Nordok and Seldor, “will be leading the wagon, with two extra mounts tethered behind it.”

“And what should we do in the event of an attack?” asks Nordok.

“That depends on the direction of the attack. If the attack is airborne, then we all quickly dismount and use our bows to drive whatever it is away. If the attack comes from the front, then those behind drop your reins and use your bows to help those in front. Those in front will use bows if the attackers are far enough away, or attack with swords from horseback or the ground, use your best judgment. The reverse being the case if attacked from behind. In the event of an attack from either side, depending on the distance to the attackers, we either all use our bows, or those in the front and back use bows while those in the middle use swords. In some cases, the front and back may want to encircle the attackers. As always, use your best judgment for a given situation.”

“What about those of us who don’t use bows?” asks Clernon.

“Again, it depends on the circumstances. Sometimes you will stand and guard the nearest fighter who is using a bow. You will do this so that the fighter will have a chance to change weapons in the event an attacker closes with the pair of you. The rest of the time, you may ride to the attacker, holding them back from those using bows. Remember, you can get in two shots with the bow in the same amount of time it takes to land a single blow with a sword. Again, use your best judgment, the best weapon you have is the one above your shoulders.”

“Since we are on the topic of battle strategies, once we are in the dungeons, how do we proceed?” inquires Clernon.

“Well, that is a completely different story. In the dungeons, we generally proceed on foot, two at a time. We do this because most hallways are ten feet wide, as are the majority of the doors. And you generally require five feet each to fight in. The dwarves, being of short stature, will lead the way with their short swords. Immediately behind them, Nordok and Seldor will follow with their short bows, but be on the ready to change over to your long swords when the attackers close with the dwarves. You two, being taller than the dwarves, can not only shoot over their heads, you can also strike at anything taller than the dwarves using your long swords.”

“Next in line will be Clernon and myself. Mintock will follow behind Clernon, with Clandistra behind me. The marching order in the dungeons is very important. We do not want all our clerics or mages wiped out because they were standing all in a row, thus we alternate their positions in line. And since most attacks will be forward oriented, we will form the rear. But in the event of an attack from behind, Clandistra, being the third best fighter in our group, will guard the rear. Mintock, you will be with her because it is more important for myself, having the more powerful spells, to be as close to the front as possible.”

“Now, most of the time the four fighters will be fighting at a doorway, thus protecting the rest of us. But some monsters are too strong for them to tackle alone. So, rather than allowing them to waste their lives, they will fall back, allowing the rest of us to attack as well. When that happens, one fighter and one cleric will pair up behind each dwarf, if possible. And once we have depleted our spells, we too shall attack using our staves, understood? And since we are all of relatively low levels, our spells will be used up fairly quickly. Therefore, we may find it necessary to rest more than once a day to replenish them.”

“And where do we rest in a dungeons?” asks Mintock.

“We find a room with but one door and use spikes to close it as securely as possible. Then, the fighters each take a two hour turn guarding the door. On the first level, this method is generally safe. Not too many monsters have the power to break through a door that has been spiked shut.”

“I’ve asked Maximar for some advanced training tomorrow using the mock walls to simulate being in a dungeon setting. So tomorrow morning’s usual training exercises are cancelled, I want all of us to be at the yard after breakfast. And after lunch, we will begin packing and loading for the trip. Now, it is time we thought about sleep, unless there are any more pressing questions from our new members?” Several nods in the negative are his response. “So, off to bed with everyone.”

Next morning, after breakfast, we all head to the practice yard. There we discover that a small maze of moveable walls about three feet high has been set up. Also, several guards have been recruited to stand in as monsters. Maximar, armed with a staff, is ready to instruct us, using the staff, when necessary. “Get yourselves suited up and choose your arms. We don’t have all day!” orders Maximar.

While we do as ordered, we see him instructing some of the guards as to how he wants them to attack us. As we come out into the yard, he barks out his first order. “Get your selves lined up in this hallway, at this end. I want to see what you have decided on as your walking order.”

Delgar and Dimlar take position up front, with short swords at the ready. Seldor and Nordok are next with their short bows in hand. Mizdar and Clernon follow them with their staves at the ready. Clandistra and Mintock bring up the rear.

Maximar, nodding his approval, only makes a few adjustments to our positions, adding a little more room behind Seldor and Nordok. “Now, let’s see you walk down the hallway, keep in mind that I want you to keep the same distance between you.” Seldor and Nordok, being behind the dwarves, are having trouble adjusting to the slower pace of the dwarves. “I said to keep the same distance between you! Go back and start over!” commands Maximar. After a few false starts, we finally get our pace consistent throughout the party.

Maximar is positioning four guards at one end of the hallway. Next, he instructs us to march up the hallway and attack the four guards. The four of us up front practice battling as a team. “It is important that you two dwarves have confidence that you won’t be hit in the head by your teammates behind. And you two need to show them that you won’t accidentally hit them. The rest of you can take a break, for now. But I want you to pay attention to what I am showing them, because in the event that one of them should fall, one of you must take their place.” The next hour is spent practicing this new attack method. Every so often, Maximar has one of the others trade places with either Seldor or Nordok.

Next, we practice fighting attackers in the front while we are also attacked from the rear. Maximar quickly discovers that the mages and clerics need to practice working as a team. So he has each cleric/mage pair battling two opponents down the hall from each other, learning to fight shoulder to shoulder in a hallway.

After that, Maximar has us opening a door and attacking from the hallway. “Don’t you dare step foot in that room! If fact, I want you four to step back one pace, draw your opponents into the hallway, where you outnumber them!” And later, we practiced room to room through a doorway. “Spread yourselves out, let them come into the room, but only the first two! You two, get up there! I want to see three on one! That’s it! Now you got the hang of it!”

By the midday meal, we are all showing the effects of Maximar’s rigorous instruction. “Well, you did alright, but I wish you would reconsider and spend the next week at it. But I suppose you’ll make out all right. My blessings go with you. Have a safe journey and good hunting.” With that farewell, we leave for the Blood Moon and food. Followed immediately afterwards by a nap, and then packing for the trip.

The late afternoon finds us leaving the Blood Moon with packs and sacks in hand. We are going to the west stableyard to load the wagon and the pack mules. The pack mules will be unloaded for the night, but at least the packs will be ready. Mizdar is just leading the third mule into the yard as the rest approach.

“All I was able to purchase was this one, it seems all the rest are needed by the road crews. Now that the weather has broken, they are expecting a lot of work will be needed to fix the roads before the spring rains turn them into rivers of mud.”

“We should be able to load all our backpacks onto two mules, with the third carrying some of the extra food, half of the oil, and anything else we decide not to put in the wagon.”

“That will have to suffice, then,” comments Clandistra.

Having already repacked our backpacks with what we will actually be bringing into the dungeons, and using sacks for the rest, we load the wagon with the provisions and most of our sacks. The rest of the gear we try to load onto the last mule, but we find that we must put some on each of the mules bearing our packs.

By suppertime, we have finally figured out what is going where. We then unload the mules, leaving the gear for each stacked separately for the next morning, when we shall reload them just prior to leaving. Smitty comes over just as we finish, accompanied by the young boy. “Do you want Boy, here, to give your mounts a good rub down before you leave?”

“Yes, that would be a good idea. Also, can you check that their shoes are in good condition for the trip?” asks Seldor, with a wink at Boy.

It seems Seldor didn’t realize just how easily the small amount of time he has been spending with Boy has turned into a strong bond of trust and friendship. Thus Smitty wasn’t the only one surprised when Boy, without warning, throws himself at Seldor, hugging him and bawling that he was going to miss him. This behavior causes the rest of us to chuckle, except Smitty, whose darkening scowl is the only indication of his building anger.

“I think the little fellow has grown quite fond of you. Those daily trips to check on his care and handling of our horses have had quite an effect on the tyke, maybe you shouldn’t have sat and told him so many stories,” laughs Nordok.

“Is that what he was doing each morning,” says Smitty, his anger dissipating somewhat.

“Yes, I hope you aren’t offended, but that is quite a son you have. He has really been a big help to me. You are lucky to have a son like him.” Mollified, Smitty is obviously looking at his son from a different perspective.

“Say goodbye to your friend, Seldor, and then join us for dinner, we still have things to discuss before we leave in the morning,” instructs Mizdar, leading the rest of us away.

“Hey, it’s all right, I’ll be back in a little over a month. And think of the stories I’ll be able to tell you then!”

“Promise?”

“Yes, I promise. And to prove it, I want you to hold onto this until I come back,” says Seldor, returning Boy to the ground and removing a chain with a pendant from around his neck.

“My mum gave me this when I was but a wee bit younger than you, she told me it would keep away the bad dreams, and bring only good dreams, but only if I was a good boy. Guard it well, because I’ll be needing it when I come back from the dungeons. Now, off with you,” and Seldor sneaks a silver piece into Boy’s pocket.

“I must thank you for your kindness to Boy, ever since his ma died givin’ birth to him, I haven’t been the best of fathers to him. And seeing the way the two of you were, just now, has made me realize that I have made a terrible mistake.”

“Well, it’s never too late to correct a matter of the heart, at least not so long as either of you draw breath. You have the makings of a good son there, Smitty.”

“Aye, I do, at that.”

“I’ve got to be going, best of luck to you, Smitty.”

“And may you and the rest have a safe journey.”

When we are all back at the Blood Moon for what will undoubtedly be our last supper there for quite some time, Clandistra pulls Seldor aside and speaks some words of wisdom to him. “I sense that you may have just made two lives more complete. The father will soon heal his wounds and be able to love the son. And the son, soon to experience the father’s love, will not grow into manhood unable to love, as would his fate have been, had you not intervened. It is not how many lives we touch as we go through life, but rather, how we touch them. You have done the Mother Tree a service tonight, one she will not soon forget.”

Seldor, either unable, or unsure, of how to reply, remains silent throughout dinner, pondering the cleric’s words.

Finally, Nordok, exasperated over Seldor’s silence, finally manages to get him to speak. “What did you do to him, Clandistra, remove his tongue? I have never seen him go more than ten minutes without opening that big mouth of his.” Nordok then pretends to make a grab for Seldor ’s face, “let’s see if there is still a tongue in that head, or has it truly been emptied by our pretty cleric?”

“Aye, I still have my tongue, you scoundrel. But if you keep trying to stick your fingers into my mouth to see, it’ll be you who’s missing something!” threatens Seldor with mock anger.

After the meal, Teela comes over to collect the dishes. “There’ll be no drinking tonight, Teela. We’re off before the sun comes up. What do we owe for the dinner tonight?” asks Mintock.

“Well, my husband says that since you paid for a whole fortnight in advance and are leaving two days early, tonight’s meal is on the house.”

“Well, send him our thanks, and our good-byes. We know not if he’ll be up in the morning when we leave. We have all thoroughly enjoyed his hospitality and his cooking,” replies Mintock.

“Most especially his cooking,” adds Seldor.

“Yes, indeed,” puts in Nordok.

And the others around the table nod their appreciation as well.

“And a safe and prosperous journey to all of you.”

The next morning, about two hours before the sun comes up, our adventurers are up and on their way out of the Blood Moon. Freedar startles them when he appears in the kitchen doorway. “I start serving breakfast in an hour. If you care to stop back about then I can have something hot ready before you go.”

“That sounds mighty tempting. We will do our best to be here in an hour.”

“Well, just in case you don’t have the time, here are some meat pies. They are just leftovers from last night, but they ought to keep for a few days in this cold, if need be.”

“Thankyou, we really appreciate this, we’ll do our best to stop back in an hour for breakfast. See you then.”

Freedar, waving goodbye, closes the door after them and returns to his kitchen and his cooking. He wonders if he will ever see any of them again, and realizes that he honestly hopes he will, and not just for breakfast.

We are quick to load the pack mules and ready the mounts, hindered only somewhat by the predawn darkness. But the knowledge that if we hurry, we will have time for a quick breakfast back at the Blood Moon spurs us on. Once we have finished, and have had one of the others double-check the packs and gear, the eight of us make a quick trip back to the Blood Moon for breakfast.

Timora, who has been watching from the door, hoping that they would come back for breakfast like her father said they would, quickly pretends to clean the tables and prepare for the start of the day. “Good morning, it is a surprise to see you up at this hour,” teases Timora, as the adventurers enter and seat themselves around a table.

Freedar, entering from the kitchen, embarrasses Timora. “I told you they would be back for breakfast. At least now that they have, maybe you can tear yourself away from peeking out the door for them and I can get some work out of you. Go and fetch some mugs and some coffee for them, I’m sure they are cold enough to want coffee this morning.”

Timora, blushing, goes to fetch the coffee and mugs. Freedar, with a smile and a wink, says loud enough for Timora to hear, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with her till you get back. I’ve half a mind to pay you to take her with you.”

“Seems we have that effect on people, eh, Seldor?” teases Nordok, referring to last night’s incident with Boy in the stableyard.

“So, what’ll it be for breakfast, this morning?” asks Freedar. They are just beginning to place their orders when Timora comes back with the coffee and the mugs. “Step lively now, they have to leave all too soon,” orders Freedar.

Timora sets everyone’s mugs on the table, as well as the pitchers of coffee. But as the rest of us reach for our mugs, she serves Nordok his, bending to kiss his cheek before dashing off to the kitchen. This causes the rest of us, now sure that Timora has a crush on Nordok, to burst into laughter.

Nordok, turning a nice shade of red, finds himself speechless. Freedar finds himself laughing with the rest of us. “Well, it’s about time she started thinking about finding herself a husband. Maybe by next winter I’ll have to start setting aside her dowry. Now about breakfast, I guess I’ll be serving you this morning, it’ll take an act of God to get her back in here now.”

His comments only add fuel to our mirth, and cause Nordok to turn even redder, if that were possible. Once we have regained control of ourselves, we place our orders with Freedar, who then hurries to the kitchen to prepare our food.

While we are waiting for the food, Nordok spies Timora peeking out of the door to the kitchen. Pretending to have to relieve himself, he excuses himself from the rest. As he is heading for the back hall, he discretely motions for Timora to meet him there. He waits but a few moments while an obviously shy Timora decides whether to meet him or not. Finally, she appears, and it is obvious that she has been crying.

“You don’t need to cry.”

“But they made fun of me.”

“No, it was I that they were making fun of, not you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. You don’t have to be ashamed of your feelings. It is quite normal for you to have them. We all have them. Here, dry your eyes.” Nordok hands her a handkerchief made of silk and having his family crest and name embroidered on it.

“You may keep that to remember me by. Now, chin up and think happy thoughts, I don’t want to remember you when you are crying.” And Timora, heart soaring, gives him a smile and a light kiss before turning and bolting for the kitchen.

After they have eaten, the adventurers prepare to depart. Clandistra and Nordok are the last to leave. It is Clandistra’s sharp Elven eyes that spot the handkerchief with Nordok’s crest in Timora’s hand as she waves goodbye to Nordok from the kitchen door. Her sharp eye doesn’t miss Nordok’s return smile, either.

Deliberately slowing enough to cause the two of them to be able to talk without the others being able to hear, Clandistra makes an observation that seems to have been missed by the others. “Timora is at most three, maybe four years younger than you, correct? To most, that is but a blink of an eye. She will blossom into a full woman soon, and in ten years, the difference in age between you two will be as nothing.”

“Yes, but will I still be walking among men in ten years? My profession lends me to think that will be unlikely.”

“Maybe not, but in the meantime, would you not like to make the most of the years that you do have? I am already more than four times your age, but among my own kind, I am barely an adult. Time is a fickle thing, it goes relentlessly onward, allowing no quarter for mistakes or regrets.”

“Are you saying that I should pursue her, then?”

“I’m saying that you should be true to yourself and to your heart. Your life is already too short, you must do as much as you can with the time given to you.”

“You know, I never would have figured you for a matchmaker, Clandistra.”

“Ah, but I am a cleric and the Mother Tree preaches that we should sow the seeds of love whenever and wherever we can.”

“Well said, but we ride with the rising of the sun, and unless I am mistaken, that is in about five minutes.”

Mizdar finally notices that the two are lagging behind. “Let’s get a move on, you two. The guard is already assembled and the road crews are starting to mount their wagons.”

The two hurry to their horses and mount up. Riding out of the stables, we take up a position behind the wagons of the road crews. A squad of guards leads the procession out of the west gate and heads north.